


Hitler and the Rise of the Third Reich

by slutpunk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asphyxiation, Begging, Butt Plugs, Clothed Sex, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Feminization, Hair-pulling, M/M, Marking, Slapping, Spanking, Spit Kink, Teacher Castiel, Teacher Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slutpunk/pseuds/slutpunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Winchester was enjoying an nice, normal afternoon in his classroom when someone decides to interrupt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitler and the Rise of the Third Reich

**Author's Note:**

> Originally on LJ, now available on AO3.

“Don’t forget to turn in your permission slips for the school trip and—Hey! No punching! No punching! We do not punch each other here. Save it for the playground.” The man trailed off into muted mutterings as the students filed out until his classroom was blissfully empty. He sat down heavily, legs splayed out under the desk and enjoying the silence that always ebbed in slowly at the end of the day. The bells were ringing in the hallway, but it seemed far off in the distance. This was the part of the afternoon that Dean enjoyed most, the silences in between, the lull of activity before he had to get started on the crappy English papers he had to grade.  
  
Broad windows ran the length of the classroom, bright sunlight streaming through the open vertical blinds in thin shafts of light. From where Dean sat he could see the kids rushing to the buses, idling on the sidewalk and, of course, fiddling around with their damn cell phones. He could never understand the attraction to those stupid things, or why Cas had insisted that Dean get one of his own. He’d confiscated enough from his students, he didn’t need to stare at one. And besides—  
  
“Mr. Winchester?”  
  
Dean whirled around in his chair, squinting at the figure standing in the doorway. He could see that her hand was raised as if she had knocked, but he must not have heard it.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“May I come in?”  
  
“Uh—sure?” It took him a moment, but now he noticed something was a bit off. Dean watched her legs as she teetered forward, balancing precariously on a shiny pair of heels. His gaze traveled slowly up, taking in the strong calves encased in soft white silk knee high socks, the plaid pleated skirt (well above dress code standards), crisp white shirt, and a matching plaid tie. And then his eyes simply stopped.  
  
Jesus Christ, it was Castiel. His Cas. Standing at the end of his desk in a skirt and knee-high socks and heels and that tight shirt and tie and Jesus Christ, what the hell?  
  
“Jesus Christ! What the hell?”  
  
Oh no. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Cas’ cheeks flushed a bright pink and Dean could already feel something dangerous and hungry stirring in his gut.  
  
“I’m sorry, I just—It’s almost the end of the year so I thought I’d—Should I—Should I go--?”  
  
It should have been a crime for Castiel to look so flustered and nervous, and yet still so sinful and lewd. A familiar heat burned low in his stomach, demanding attention even as he cleared his throat and ordered himself to speak.  
  
“No! No. It’s—ah, it’s good.” Dean knew that he couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming up and down, watching the way Castiel tugged nervously at the hem of his skirt, the way he ducked his head, as if he couldn’t stand the weight of Dean’s gaze for too long. “Really good.”  
  
The silence was palpable and for a long moment, all Dean could do was stare. Cas couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t seem to raise his eyes higher than Dean’s chest, but it only made the scene more potent, filtering through his senses and leaving the rest of the world in a haze of fog. But Dean saw the tiny smile, just barely there, the crinkled lines in Cas’ face unnoticeable to most. Not Dean. Dean saw them, saw that smile he knew was just for him and he understood. Maybe not fully, but the picture was starting to become clear.  
  
Sitting upright in his chair and straightening the vest of his suit, Dean gestured to the empty desk in the front row. “Sit down, Miss…?”  
  
“Uh—Novak.” The pink globes of Castiel’s cheeks seemed to deepen in color and Dean felt something lodge in his throat at the sight. He needed to breathe; he could already feel himself threatening to fall apart just from watching Cas take his seat and seeing the hem of his skirt ride up enough to give Dean a glimpse of white before his smooth knees locked together.  
  
Dean stood abruptly, banging his knee on his desk and immediately fighting to keep the grimace of pain from his face as he walked to the windows.  
  
“So what can I do for you, Miss Novak?” Damn, he was good. Hardly even a trace of how shaken the sight of Cas like this made him feel. His hands didn’t even shake as he went to work methodically closing each of the blinds until only the dim glow of fluorescent overhead lights lit the room. He couldn’t stop watching Cas, his eyes drawn to that skinny body wrapped up in a goddamn school uniform just for him. Jesus. Christ.  
  
“I wanted to talk to you about my paper. The one I wrote about Hitler and the Third Reich?” Dean could hear that nervous ring in Cas’ voice, but it only threw more gas on the flames.  
  
“Uh—Yeah. Wasn’t really your best work, Miss Novak. Gotta say I was a little  _disappointed_.”  
  
As he circled around the room, eyes ever trained on Castiel’s form, Dean could see the way the man in the schoolgirl’s uniform trembled, the way it carried across his shoulders, straightening his body for a moment before they dipped forward again in that familiar half-slouch. It was a testament to his memory, the way he knew exactly when Castiel shuddered like that, knew the other’s body as well as he knew his own. The right inflection, the right tone, and Dean knew that he could make Castiel come with just a few choice words.  
  
Walking up between the rows of desks, Dean knew he was getting dangerously close to Cas, but he couldn’t resist. As he passed by the man, he could smell the slight tang of perfume (definitely not the cologne Cas was wearing this morning) and felt the edge of Castiel’s skirt brush against his pant leg. And he could almost feel rather than hear the intake of breath from Cas, taking a silent, quiet pleasure knowing that he was the cause of it. But he didn’t allow himself to stop, no matter how much he wanted to get down on his knees and run his hands over Castiel’s limbs, just to take in the feel of those hairless legs wrapped up in silk against his palms.  
  
Instead, Dean went to the door, shutting it with his eyes on Cas, and officially closing them off from the rest of the world.  
  
“So what is it that you want to talk about? I’ve already got your grades ready right here.” Dean didn’t, of course. Never mind the fact that he always waited until the last minute to turn his grades in (something Cas never failed to nag at him for, especially since Cas always had  _his_  grades in weeks before the due date), Cas hadn’t even turned in a paper. But this was where the fun of the game came in. He made a gesture to the pile of papers on his desk as he sat on the edge nearest to his pretty, vulgar, gorgeous Cas.  
  
Dean wasn’t sure if it was because of the situation he was in, or if it was part of the game, but Cas ducked his head, long fingers winding together on the desktop.  
  
“I was wondering – hoping – that there might be something I could do? Some kind of extra credit? Maybe?” Cas sounded so unsure and Dean felt that urge crawling up his spine to just give in, to stop all the charades and just take. But he held himself together, reigning in that part of him that wanted to snark back,  _Yeah, I’ve got some extra credit for you – in my pants!_  
  
“I dunno, Miss Novak. We’re not usually allowed to give out extra credit.” Another lie, but he wasn’t about to make this easy on Cas. Not when Cas had just waltzed in dressed up like that. No way, no how.  
  
Cas seemed to deflate a bit in his seat and Dean knew that was certainly an act. It helped steady him a little, to know that Cas was playing this impromptu game of theirs up too.  
  
“But…” Dean put up a show of sighing, even frowning, fingers stapled together between his knees, “Maybe if you do something for me, I can pull some strings. Maybe.” He gave Cas a pointed look, finally having those sapphire eyes locked with his own.  
  
“What—what kind of things?” Dean watched the nervous bob of Castiel’s Adam’s apple above the collar of his shirt.  
  
Dean took his time letting his eyes roam over Castiel’s body again, this time making an obvious show of the way his eyes trailed along the supple skin that was revealed to him and watching the way the buttons of Castiel’s shirt strained across the flat planes of his chest, the faint tint of pink nipples just barely showing through the layers of clothes and he realized with a start that there was something else underneath Castiel’s button down, something lacy that covered his chest, but he hardly had a moment to really take it in.  
  
Because just there, jutting out underneath the thin, thin fabric, were two small studs of silver crowded around each of Castiel’s nipples. Dean knew just what to look for. He had watched Cas get them done, had watched the long needle breaking through skin, had seen the way Castiel flinched, but simply breathed through it. He had helped Castiel care for them, made sure they healed properly and he was the one to hook chains to each one and pull until Castiel’s body arched upwards and his mouth let out the prettiest pleas.  
  
“Stand up,” Dean ordered, gesturing with one hand and ignoring schoolgirl Cas’ question.  
  
There was a long pause, almost too long for Dean’s taste, but he had to let Castiel decide. This was all a part of the game, after all. And just like Dean knew he would, Castiel seemed to nod to himself before standing, wobbling on those stupid, sexy heels and balancing himself on the desk before walking forward.  
  
When he was a few feet away, Dean held up his hand for Castiel to stop. “Put your hands straight down at your sides, fingers flat on your thighs.” Castiel looked confused for a moment then his face cleared and he swallowed before complying. Dean tsked at what he saw.  
  
“Well, Miss Novak. Looks like you’re not following the school dress code. Look at that skirt.” He pointed at the hemline, shaking his head. Just as he had thought, Castiel’s skirt ended well before the tips of his fingers. “Your skirt is supposed to reached the end of your longest finger. I think you know that.”  
  
Reaching into the desk organizer beside him and pulling out a ruler, Dean leaned forward to use it to lift the edge of Castiel’s skirt up. Dean choked down a low groan that wanted to slip out when dainty, white panties were revealed to him, just barely holding back Castiel’s cock, already hard and peeking over the hem of them. He saw the way Castiel’s body jolted then tensed as he held himself still as Dean examined the show under his skirt.  
  
“No shorts either. What would you have done if I was someone else? You know how the boys in this school can get.” He paused, watching as the pink deepened into a perfect red as Castiel’s face flushed even more, his eyes locked on the floor. Dean waited, letting the thought sink in before speaking up again. “Or maybe that’s what you wanted, huh?”  
  
He could feel his skin practically burn with the heat of his desire as Castiel’s eyes darted up to his own, wide and scared, but Dean could see something else there, something he knew very well. If he hadn’t seen Castiel’s cock already, hadn’t seen that look in his eyes just now, Dean might have thought Castiel didn’t want this. But now he knew for certain: Castiel was just as hot for it as Dean was.  
  
“N-No, sir. No.” Castiel shook his head, returning his eyes back to the floor, his arms still hanging loosely at his sides.  
  
Dean’s eyes narrowed, but otherwise he just let out a disbelieving grunt before gesturing again. “Come closer.”  
  
This time there was minimal hesitation as Castiel shifted forward, watching Dean warily, as one might watch a riled up tiger.  
  
“Closer.” Dean’s voice gave no room for argument, he knew what Castiel was up to. He watched the man shift forward some more, ankles wobbling and Dean could almost see the goose bumps that dotted his skin. But it wasn’t enough. “ _Closer_.”  
  
Castiel shivered and Dean could see it as the man in the skirt stepped forward until he was just in between Dean’s knees. Setting the ruler aside, Dean reached forward with both hands and grasped Castiel by those boney hips, dragging him in closer, reveling in the shuddering breath the man took.  
  
“I think that you’re lying to me, Miss Novak.” Dean commented as his hands drifted down and down, finding the hem of Castiel’s skirt and caressing the skin of his thighs with roughened fingers. Castiel trembled this time, but Dean ignored it. His eyes watched Castiel’s face flush, watched his eyes go wide in surprise, something wild and primal growling with need in him as he took in that perfect innocence shining there.  
  
Dean dragged Castiel in ever closer until he could feel the man’s hips pulled tight up against his own and Castiel was forced to clutch on to Dean’s shoulders in order to keep his balance. With Cas in heels like this, giving him an extra few inches, Dean hardly needed to slouch forward in order to slip his hands under that skirt and grasp onto the plump meat of Castiel’s ass, fingers gripping tighter and tighter until Castiel let out an almost pained gasp. He held back a grin when he felt the brush of something hard against his knuckles, nestled between Castiel’s ass cheeks and hoped it was what he thought it was.  
  
“I-I’m not!” Castiel’s face was so close to his own that Dean could feel his breath hot against his face. He could see that Castiel’s eyelashes looked fuller, darker, tinted by mascara no doubt, and Dean only smiled, more of a smirk that was almost cruel, twisting his lips, wondering if someone had helped his Cas put the crap on.  
  
“We’ll see about that.” This time Dean’s arm wound around Castiel’s body, fisting in the hem of the other’s skirt to hold it up as the other released it’s bruising grip on Cas’ ass cheek. But it was only for a moment before he was tugging aside the panties, pulling them up and between his cheeks, giving Dean full access to the smooth, pink skin there. From this view, he could see the black base of the plug Cas had shoved up inside himself and Dean had to bite down on his cheeks to stop the growl that wanted to slip out of him at the thought of his Cas, his Miss Novak, opening his cunt up for Dean.  _Fuck._  
  
His hand came down suddenly and hard, the sound of the slap and Castiel’s subsequent cry echoing in the classroom. But Dean knew Castiel well, knew that cry for what it was and it only spurred him on even more. The sting of his palm was familiar as he slapped his hand down again, this time standing and holding Cas against his body so he could crane his neck around and watch as Castiel’s ass pinkened under his assault, the other’s cries loud and vibrating through Dean. He could feel the way Cas was shivering against him, knew for sure that the plug was jostling inside of Cas’ hole with every slap, and felt the hardness of the man’s length pressing into his hip, but he ignored it.  
  
“If you’re not lying,” Dean ground out as his hands alternated between each of Castiel’s cheeks, making them progressively more and more red, “Then why are you dressed like such a slut, Miss Novak?”  
  
“I-I— _Ah!_ ” Castiel didn’t have the chance to reply as Dean’s hand came down hard on his behind again, but still the other charged on. “I didn’t! Not on purpose, please, sir!”  
  
Dean could feel Castiel shuddering against him now, feel the way the other’s hands were knotted in his shirt and it filled him with such pride to know he made it happen. Cas wasn’t quite broken yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer.  
  
He wanted to keep slapping at Castiel’s ass until it was a deep purple, to lash the skin until it was lost under a sea of bruises that his Cas wouldn’t be able to forget about for weeks, but that was for another time. For now, he let Castiel’s skirt fall and pulled back until he could see the other’s face again. It was just as red as his ass, his mouth hanging open in little pants, with little tears pooled just in the corner of Castiel’s baby blue eyes. Perfect.  
  
“Take off your tie and give it to me.”  
  
Dean watched Castiel swallow hard, probably swallowing around the lump that had risen in his throat, but he did just as he was told, slipping the tie off and putting it into Dean’s waiting hand. He slipped the tie into his pocket and jerked his chin, “Open your shirt.”  
  
“S-Sir--?” Hesitation again, and he didn’t know whether it was real or part of their game, but Dean cut it off anyway.  
  
“You said you wanted to bump your grade up, didn’t you, Miss Novak?” Dean’s voice was hard, he knew. He could see the effect it had on Castiel, could see the way he shivered there in his silly heels and naughty uniform, the way his eyes gleamed right back at Dean.  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Then do as you are  _told_.”  
  
“Y-Yes, sir.”  
  
This time Castiel obeyed, ducking his head down and reaching for the buttons of his shirt with shaking fingers. Dean made no effort to help or move away, watching as Castiel opened his shirt, revealing inch after inch of smooth skin.  
  
And right where he thought it would be was a small bra, all white lace to match the panties, covering his chest with two small triangles of fabric. This time, Dean couldn’t stop the groan that slipped past his lips treacherously, but it was worth it to feel the shiver that ran through Castiel’s body in response.  
  
As soon as Castiel’s shirt was open to him, Dean trailed his fingers up the skin of Castiel’s waist, feeling the sharp intake of breath, the lithe muscles of the body he knew as well as he knew his own, as his hands went up until they were cupping Castiel’s chest, the points of the piercings pressing into the palms of his hands.  
  
“If you’re not a slut, why are you covering tits up with such a skimpy bra, huh?” Even to him, Dean’s voice sounded rough, only audible by the two of them. “Just begging for someone to see your pathetic tits, aren’t you?”  
  
This time Castiel didn’t even try to deny it, just let out a soft breath of a whimper as Dean skimmed his fingers over the rise of Castiel’s nipples under the thin cloth. Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Castiel’s chest covered by the barely-there fabric, revealing just enough skin underneath. He continued his slow tease, dragging his thumbs over the hard peaks and reveling in each little sigh and whimper it drew from Castiel’s lips. Dean wasn’t sure that any scene they could every come up with would be better than this.  
  
But it wasn’t enough, not quite. Dean knew that they both needed something more, a little extra. Quickly, his gentle little caresses turned into pinching, and soon that too turned into pulling. His fingers grasped at the metal studs, tugging on them lightly, eyes tracking the way Castiel immediately bowed into him, back arching as little treacherous shivers wracked his body. That pouting, pink mouth opened up in moans and cries and every inch of Dean ached to fill Cas’ mouth up the way it was meant to be.  
  
Releasing Castiel’s nipples briefly, Dean grasped the other about the waist again, spinning them around so that Cas was pressed up against the hard edge of the desk and reaching out blindly to shove whatever was there out of the way. Several items fell with a loud clatter, but Dean paid it no attention. There would be time to clean up later.  
  
Crouching, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and lifted the other up onto the desk, ignoring the blue eyes blown wide with lust in favor of pushing Cas’ legs open and settling himself snugly between them. He could feel the hard length of Cas’ cock pressing up against his stomach now and it made his own erection practically scream with lust, but he ignored that too. Soon, he promised as he reached down to readjust it as comfortably as he could. Soon.  
  
Once he had Castiel settled right where he wanted, perched on the edge of his desk with his legs splayed open and the tip of his cock tenting up his skirt, his hands placed on the tabletop behind him to hold himself upright, Dean continued his assault. That’s what it was really, there was no other way to describe how he bent his mouth to Castiel’s chest, hands splayed wide over Cas’ shoulder blades to hold him in place. Dean didn’t bother pushing the fabric of the bra out of his way, sucking Castiel’s nipple into his mouth hard, teeth clicking against the metal of those piercings.  
  
“Sir, please!”  
  
Castiel was bucking up into his mouth immediately, cries filling up the small classroom and echoing through the room. But Dean remained fixed on his task, his mouth sucking and tugging and biting at Cas’ nipples through the lacy fabric, leaving deep pink marks in the space between, until Castiel’s chest was a smattering of love bites. It was only when he could see Castiel’s nipples peeking up through the fabric, now wet and practically see-through, that Dean finally pulled away.  
  
Castiel seemed to shine with his need, his chest rising and falling, looking so obscene with the hickey marks splashed over his perfect skin, and yet so innocent in his lacy bra and delicate skirt, all splayed out like that on the desk. The blush that stained his cheeks had deepened and spread, seeping down into his neck and Dean felt another rush of pride knowing that he did that. He was responsible for the way that Castiel’s eyes were hooded, but still gleamed at him with awareness, with lust, with need.  
  
“You keep saying you’re not a slut, Miss Novak. But look at the way your nipples are standing up for me.” Straightening up, Dean wrapped one hand around the back of Castiel’s neck, holding him in place while the other flicked hard at Castiel’s abused peaks. Castiel jerked hard, crying out, and Dean could hear several more items go rolling of the desk as it jolted beneath them, but he paid it no mind. His attention was entirely focused on Cas.  
  
Still keeping a grip on Castiel with one hand, Dean grabbed a fistful of the lacy bra, yanking it to one side so that one of Castiel’s tits was completely bare to him. Castiel gasped and shuddered in his grip as Dean palmed at it, squeezing until the tips of his fingers where edged in red and white and Castiel’s mouth fell open in such sweet cries and pleas.  
  
Grunting out his satisfaction as his cock gave an angry twitch in his pants, Dean released Castiel’s tit only to bring his hand down in a short, hard slap, right on his nipple. Castiel’s body gave another hard twitch, his hips bucking up into Dean’s stomach and Dean knew that he was just trying to find some kind of friction, some kind of a relief. So he did it again, slapping his hand down right over Castiel’s nipple, ignoring the bite of steel against his palms in order to watch the way Castiel writhed in his grip.  
  
“Look at you,” Dean commented, his voice a low rasp as he dragged Castiel in close, until his mouth was pressed to the shell of the man’s ear. “I bet your cunt’s wet for me right now.” His voice was low as he growled out crude words into Castiel’s ear, his hand alternating between slaps, flicks and tugs on Cas’ bare nipple, silver shining in the dim light. “Is your cunt leaking, Miss Novak? Can you feel it all sopping wet and hungry for my cock?”  
  
The sounds that Castiel let out were like music to Dean, harsh little moans, whimpers that made his cock throb, and begging little whines that only proved to Dean how much Cas wanted it. How much he loved being treated like he was a little slut. Dean twisted Castiel’s perked up nipple hard.  
  
“I asked you a question, Miss Novak. Is your slutty little cunt wet?” He accented his words with more pulls on Castiel’s abused nipple, pinching it between his fingers and tugging it hard.  
  
“Y-Yes!” Dean could just barely see the line of Castiel’s face, could see the way his mouth hung open, the way the mascara around his eyes bled just a bit, his skin smooth and free of stubble.  
  
He gave another hard pull on Castiel’s nipple, twisting as he watched the skin pull upwards. “Yes, what?”  
  
“Yes, sir!”  
  
Satisfied, Dean released Castiel’s nipple and gave it one final slap before the hand at Castiel’s neck wound upwards, twisting into the other’s hair and giving it a harsh jerk. Immediately, Castiel’s hands came up to grasp at the one’s twisted in his hair and if it weren’t for Dean’s grip, Castiel might have gone toppling right over. He yanked hard purposefully, loving the way Castiel had to wrap his legs around Dean’s hips in order to stay upright, the points of his heels digging into Dean’s knee.  
  
“So your cunt is slutty. Your tits are slutty too.” Dean spoke as if he were making an observation, commenting on one of his students papers, but in reality he was swimming in lust, drowning in it, his cock throbbing with each little gasp that slipped past Castiel’s mouth.  
  
His free hand trailed up, fingers dancing lightly over the curve of Castiel’s open mouth so pink and wet. “I bet your mouth is just as slutty, isn’t it?”  
  
Castiel stared at him with eyes that shone bright blue and slowly, he nodded. “Yes, sir.”  
  
Something deep within Dean shouted for joy, thrashing in his body, demanding that he  _take_ , but he forced himself to breathe first.  
  
“You want me to fill up that needy mouth of yours?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” No hesitation this time.  
  
“Good girl.”  
  
Dean pulled back with a slap to Castiel’s cheek, light when compared to the way he was hitting Castiel’s nipples earlier. “Lay back on the desk.”  
  
He released his grip in the other’s hair and helped Castiel to shove aside the stray pens and papers that littered his desk, neither of them caring as they rolled off and away leaving the desk almost completely clear. It was a perfect fit. When Castiel laid back, he had to strain to keep his head upright lest it hang off of the desk and his ass was still perched right at the edge.  
  
Dean allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight of Castiel spread out like this for him. He watched the way Castiel’s chest heaved in short little pants, his bra completely askew, shirt wide open, skirt pushed high around his thighs. It just barely covered the rise of his cock, twitching underneath the heavy fabric, probably pushing up against the white material of his panties, maybe even dripping wet with precome. But there would be time to investigate that later. Right now, Dean had something else in mind.  
  
Rounding the desk, Dean had to force himself to take his time. Castiel’s eyes followed him, of course, tracking each of his movements as Dean came around to the side where Cas’ head hung over the edge and standing so his crotch was right before the man’s face.  
  
“Open my pants.”  
  
He watched the long column of Castiel’s throat work, a nervous bob. But he did exactly as ordered and Dean was happy to see his Miss Novak obeying so well. Fingers pushed the vest of his suit up and worked over the button of his dress pants, flicking open the buttons with a few practiced movements. He wanted to comment that slutty Miss Novak must have done this often, but his cock was screaming for attention.  
  
“Take my cock out.”  
  
And Castiel did just that, pushing aside the layers of Dean’s pants and boxers and wrapping a hand around the thick length of him. With a low groan, a dribble of precome oozed out of Dean’s cock, dripping down onto Castiel’s cheek and, as he watched the blush spread over Castiel’s chest and the way the man licked at his lips, Dean knew that he wasn’t going to be able to keep it up for long. Taking his cock into his hand, Dean rubbed that drop of precome into the skin of Castiel’s cheek, spreading it over as much of his face as he could. He couldn’t resist the urge to slap his cock there, to hear the wet slaps resounding in the room along with Castiel’s whimpers.  
  
“Open your mouth.”  
  
Again, Castiel followed through seamlessly, beautifully. The sight of Castiel laid out like a friggin' full course meal, his mouth open and his body splayed out so lewd before him could have made a weaker man come. But Dean had already determined how this would end.  
  
Grasping Castiel’s head gently in his hands, guiding the man so that his head hung over the edge completely, Dean thrust his cock inside. He groaned low and loud as he felt Castiel’s throat spasm around his cock, heard the muffled gasps and choking sounds as he slid right into Castiel’s throat. When he looked down, he could see the bulge of his cock buried in Castiel’s throat, could see the way it struggled to take him down and that was almost better than the feel of such a hot, wet tunnel wrapped around him so perfectly. Almost.  
  
Heaving in staggered breaths, Dean shoved the jacket of his suit off and let it fall to the floor before he began his slow thrusts into Castiel’s mouth.  
  
Dean knew how much Castiel could take, he’d trained the man himself. He didn’t worry about how Castiel was going to breathe or if he hurt the guy even with his short, shallow thrusts because he knew that Cas liked it this way. He’d told Dean more than once that he loved it when Dean’s cock was filling his mouth, stuffing up his throat until he couldn’t taste anything but Dean’s cock and Dean’s come dripping into him.  
  
He could feel the way Castiel’s throat started to relax, started to accommodate him more as his thrusts got deeper and longer, letting the head of his cock pull almost completely out of Castiel’s throat and watching the bulge sink down before thrusting back up inside him. It was impossibly warm and wet and Castiel’s lips were tight around him, as if reluctant to ever let him go. Blindly, Cas’ hands gripped at the back of Dean’s thighs, his own legs bent upward and open. Fuck. It was such a perfect scene, the way Castiel’s skirt had inched up even further, the way his body jolted with each thrust of Dean’s cock into his mouth, that telltale twitch of his cock, the lopsided and lewd way the bra hung on him.  
  
Placing his hand over the curve of Castiel’s throat, Dean let out a hiss through his teeth as he felt the way his cock moved in and out of Castiel’s mouth in slow, long thrusts. He didn’t dare go any faster, knowing that it would only make it harder for him to hold back.  
  
Dean could have stayed buried in Castiel like that forever, but he knew Cas wasn’t lying when he said how wet his cunt was. He would have loved to paint the inside of Castiel’s throat with white streaks of come, to fill his mouth up until he was gonna burst and then hold his mouth shut until every inch of it was swallowed up. But that wasn’t how this game was supposed to be played.  
  
Dragging himself back and letting his cock fall out of Cas’ mouth with a soft plop, Dean gave a long, shuddering sigh. He just needed a moment, one breath to regain his faltering control and that would be enough.  
  
Crouching down, Dean brought himself eye level with Castiel, reaching a hand up to smear the drool and spit that had oozed out of Castiel’s mouth while his dick had been buried there. Cas was panting hard, and tears had leaked out, black trails following their path over his temples and cheeks. And it was beautiful;  _Cas_  was beautiful like this, his eyes glazed over with nothing, but want. For Dean. This was always when he knew that he had Castiel broken, when Cas was pliant and needy and desperate.  
  
“Did you like that, Miss Novak?”  
  
Castiel nodded feebly, “Y-Yes, sir.” Dean was happy to hear the croak of his voice, throat roughened by the treatment it had received.  
  
“Do you want my cock in your cunt now, Miss Novak?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Dean fought down a grin, a smirk. “Ask me very nicely to fuck you, Miss Novak.”  
  
“Please, sir,” He watched as Castiel’s mouth gaped open and closed as he struggled to swallow and Dean felt his cock twitched at the thought of Castiel tasting him in that moment. “Please fuck my cunt, sir. Please fuck my slutty cunt, sir.”  
  
This time Dean couldn’t help himself, couldn’t hold back the damn near animalistic growl of pleasure he let out then, so happy to hear his precious little fucktoy beg like that.  
  
The hand that caressed Castiel’s lips curled into the man’s hair and twisted, listening to the man whimper, eyes fluttering. “I want you to turn over on to your stomach with you ass right over the edge where I can fuck it properly and your legs spread for me. Do you understand?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Dean could hear how desperate Cas was, how badly he wanted it and he grinned. Using the hand in Castiel’s hair, Dean helped him to sit upright, releasing his grip as he rounded the desk again. He watched the way Castiel sat up shakily, pushing himself off the edge of the desk, heels hitting the floor with soft clicks. Even from where Dean stood he could see the way Castiel was trembling, but still he managed to keep his balance as he turned and bent over the desk, just like Dean had instructed. His legs were spread just wide enough for Dean to stand between them, putting him at the perfect height to take Dean’s cock. He felt another flush of pride knowing that he’d trained Castiel to be this way, to bend over for his cock so perfectly.  
  
Unbuttoning the vest and the first few buttons of his shirt, pants hanging loosely around his hips, Dean took his place behind Castiel, pushing the hem of his skirt up until his ass was bared to him. The panties were still pulled up between Cas’ ass cheeks and Dean could see the bump of the plug even better. Castiel’s cock dangled down between his legs, hard and leaking profusely over the top of his undergarments; there was no way this was going to last nearly as long as they wanted it to. But Dean was determined to make this good for both of them.  
  
Dean hooked his finger into the fabric of Castiel’s panties, pulling them up and to the side so the base of the plug was revealed to him as shivers trailed up and down the man’s body.  
  
“Wow,” Dean whistled out, unable to contain his smile. “You really weren’t kidding. Your cunt is fucking dripping.”  
  
That was partly true, Dean saw as he carefully removed the plug from Castiel’s hole, a relatively small one compared to most that they owned, and he saw the way the lube Castiel had used leaked out of his hole heavily. Again he was struck by the image of Castiel using his fingers to open himself up, probably already all decked out in his costume, maybe he’d even done it in his own classroom just down the hall before coming over to Dean’s.  
  
The real Castiel shuddered and whined low in his throat as the plug slipped out of his hole and Dean paused to brush his thumb over that trembling rim, feeling it clench as if it wanted to suck him inside.  
  
“Such a greedy fuckhole, Miss Novak. All slippery and wet for me.” Dean hardly even realized he was speaking as he carefully set the plug aside. Using the fingers of his left hand to hold Castiel’s panties to the side, Dean grasped the base of his cock in his right hand and pressed the bulbous head of it against that quivering cunt. They both groaned as it slid in easily enough and Dean didn’t stop until he was buried right to the hilt in Castiel’s hole, all sopping wet and clamping down around him greedily.  
  
Huffing out hard breaths, Dean used his free hand to reach into his pocket, not daring to slip out of Castiel, not just yet. Groping there, he found Cas’ tie, right where he thought it would be. He pulled out of Cas slowly, watching the way the man shuddered, and the skirt of his uniform pushed up high around his waist. Holding just the head of his cock in Castiel’s hole, Dean looped one end of the tie around his fist before reaching forward and hooking to around Castiel’s neck like a leash, using it to drag Castiel until his body bent upwards. At the same moment, Dean slammed his cock back home, reveling in the strangled, choked cry that Castiel gave.  
  
“That’s right,” Dean growled out, using the tie to yank Castiel up, forcing his body to bend obscenely, his hands scrabbling to find balance as Dean’s cock began to pound into him with short hard jabs. Castiel could hardly reply and Dean knew that it was because of the tie pressing into his throat. “Your slutty little pussy’s just been waiting to take my cock, hasn’t it? Been dreaming about it for weeks, Miss Novak?”  
  
Dean didn’t know how he managed to ground out those words, not with the way that Castiel’s hole was clenching around him, relentlessly clamping down and shivering like it was trying to milk every bit of him. And from this angle, Dean knew that he was hitting just the right spot, knew exactly where to aim to really drive Castiel mad.  
  
They were almost back to front with the way that Dean had pulled Castiel up and that allowed him to whisper in his baby’s ear. “Gonna come for me already, Miss Novak? Come on, I want to feel this slutty cunt of yours milking my dick. Wanna feel you come around me.” Castiel cried out, louder than any of the others and Dean’s left hand came up, clamping down over Castiel’s mouth. “Not so loud, baby. Don’t want the entire school to hear you, do we?”  
  
He could feel Castiel panting out harsh breaths against his palm, his mouth open and muffled, broken cries slipping out as Dean pounded up into him. The desk beneath them shook with the power of his thrusts, even more items scattering off onto the floor and Dean took a moment to mourn for the class papers that would no doubt be ruined by this. But it was too perfect for him to really care.  
  
Castiel was throbbing around him, trembling as the lewd sounds of their fucking filled the room, the slap of skin on skin.  
  
“Touch your clit, Miss Novak. Want to see you come all over my desk.” Dean knew he wouldn’t have to explain.  
  
Following his orders, Castiel reached a hand down and wrapped it around himself, pushing the panties out of the way into order to get a firm grip around the base of his cock. Dean was filled with more purpose than ever, his hips pounding against Castiel’s prostate with each thrust, the fist wrapped around the length of the tie twisting to make it tighter, his fingers moving to pinch Castiel’s nose and cover his mouth, depriving him of even more air.  
  
That was all it took for Castiel to start coming, his hole clamping down and shuddering, squeezing down on Dean until he thought he might black out. And Dean was right there with Cas, teeth clamping down on Castiel’s shoulder as he came, spilling into Castiel with hard, long thrusts of his cock into that shivering hole.  
  
He didn’t pass out, not quite. But the next thing Dean remembered, they were both bent forward over the desk and panting heavily. Dean didn’t even want to think of the mess that lay beneath Castiel’s body, not yet. For now he was content to enjoy the feeling of Castiel’s hole clenching and wet around him, both of them still twitching.  
  
Head heavy, Dean glanced up at the clock and saw that it was nearing on five in the afternoon. Which meant that soon the big team of janitors would be coming around to clean up. Which meant they had to get moving. But first—  
  
Sitting up, Dean groped for the plug that had, out of some miracle, managed to remain right where Dean left it. Gingerly, he slipped out of Castiel’s hole, not giving himself a moment to enjoy the way it seemed to twitch and clench, still wanting to be filled even as come started to dribble out. Dean worked quickly to plug up the rest of his come, trapping it inside of Castiel’s body. Grabbing the box of Kleenex from where it had fallen, Dean plucked a few and gave himself a precursory clean up before focusing on Cas.  
  
The other man remained completely still except for a few jerks of his body as Dean cleaned up the mess around his panties and rearranged Castiel’s panties and skirt. He helped Cas to sit upright again, one arm wrapped around the man’s waist as he cleaned off the spit, tears and come from Castiel’s face and stomach gently, smiling back as soon as Castiel’s eyes met his and that perfect mouth curved up.  
  
They said nothing else, as Dean worked to rearrange Castiel’s bra and button his shirt again until all that was out of sorts was the tie. He didn’t bother retying it around Castiel’s neck, knowing that Cas was probably just gonna take it off once he back to his classroom anyway. But he didn’t move away. Not yet.  
  
“Are you going home?”  
  
“I have some labs—“ Castiel started and immediately Dean was shaking his head.  
  
“Never mind that. Just go home, all right. Pretty sure you’re going to keel over at any moment.” Castiel blushed and Dean knew that he was right. “Go home, babe. I’m sure the kids can wait a day for to get their labs back. In fact, I’m positive. Go home and go to bed.”  
  
Sheepishly, Castiel nodded, his hands coming up to button up Dean’s shirt again, smoothing the wrinkles out of it. “Okay.”  
  
The kiss that Cas pressed to his lips was chaste compared to what they’d just done, but still just as sweet.  
  
Moments later, Dean watched Castiel wobble away on legs that were more shaky than ever, tottering on those heels back down the hall to his class. Dean knew that he wouldn’t have to remind Cas to keep the plug inside until told otherwise. He’d trained Castiel well.  
  
Turning to his desk, Dean shook his head at the mess there. His entire desk organizer was on the floor, pens and highlighters spilled all over the floor. His filed organizer had toppled right over onto the floor too. And the papers, goddamn it the papers. They were covered with a sticky mess of come and just glancing at them Dean knew that they were gone. No way he was gonna be able to save them, let alone read what was on them.  
  
A’s. He was giving all the kids A’s. Problem solved.  
  
Now he needed to figure out how he should punish Miss Novak for ruining a whole stack of her fellow student’s papers.


End file.
